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Tuesday, April 14, 2015

BOOK BLITZ - ROPES AND REVENGE by JESSIE EVANS + EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY

The fairies are so happy to be a part of this blitz for JESSIE EVANS' ROPES AND REVENGE!!!

Series: (Lonesome Point, Texas #6)

Publication date: April 14th 2015

Genres: Adult, Suspense

SYNOPSIS

Eight months ago, John Lawson lost his wife and best friend in a tragic accident on his family’s ranch. In the time since, he’s devoted himself to two things—taking care of his two newly motherless sons and proving that Lily’s accident was no accident. Now, he finally has hard evidence that his wife was murdered and he won’t rest until he has the killer’s blood on his hands. He doesn’t have time for anything but vengeance, especially not a crazy ghost hunter wanting to poke around the old spring on his family’s ranch.

Persephone Styles—Percy to her friends—learned about ghosts the hard way, when she was orphaned by a violent crime at the age of seven. Ever since, she’s seen spirits and been obsessed with studying souls beyond the grave. She’s in Lonesome Point to document the town’s spectral activity, but finds herself powerfully drawn to widower John Lawson and empathizing with his grieving children. For the first time in years, Percy is as riveted by the living as she’s always been by the dead and longs to be a part of John’s life.

But when one night of passion becomes something more, Percy realizes John is as haunted as she is and that the man she’s coming to love is walking a dangerous road that may end with him becoming a murderer’s next victim.

“I’m not good
with people,” Persephone said, holding his gaze for a long beat before she
continued. “I don’t know what to say to help them feel better when they’re
hurting, but sometimes I can help them by helping the people they loved. I know
you don’t believe in ghosts, but I do and I care about them and I want to help
them find peace. That’s all. I believe everyone deserves peace, don’t you?”

“I believe
people don’t get what they deserve,” John said, his voice rough. “Now leave.
Please.”

She had to leave
before the earnest look on her beautiful face or the empathy shining in her
eyes broke him and he started spilling his guts to a total stranger. This woman
didn’t deserve to know that his wife was dead or that he still mourned her like
it had happened yesterday, not seven months ago. She didn’t deserve to know
that a weak, pathetic part of him almost wanted to believe in ghosts, just so
he might have some hope of communicating with Lily, of being able to tell her
how much he loved her one more time.

But that’s what
people like this woman counted on.

“John, please,”
Persephone whispered in her feather soft voice. “Let me help if I can.”

His stomach went
sour. Persephone probably already knew that Lily had died last spring. She
would have done her research before coming here to prey on his grief the way
charlatans like her had preyed on the suffering for centuries. If he gave her
another ten minutes, he had little doubt she would be offering to help him
contact Lily on the other side.

For a fee, of
course. A fee he was sure dozens of sad fools had paid her through the years,
but he wasn’t going to be one of them.

“Get off my
land,” he repeated in a firmer voice. “I have nothing to say to you and I don’t
want, or need, your kind of help.”

Her thin
shoulders slumped and a defeated expression tightened her delicate features.
“All right. Well, I… I guess I should know better by now,” she mumbled as she
turned to walk toward the four-wheeler.

“Know better
than to try to scam people?”

She slid one leg
over the four-wheeler before turning to face him, giving him a moment to
register how out of place this elegant person looked on the dusty red machine
before she spoke. “I should know better than to reach out to people like you,
but I can’t help myself. I keep hoping…” She shook her head wistfully. “But I
suppose I’ll grow out of that, sooner or later.”

She reached for
the ignition. “Good luck, John. I hope things get better for you soon.”

John crossed his arms and watched her go, determined to keep
his expression impassive. He didn’t want her to know how shitty the seemingly
genuine concern in her voice made him feel. He didn’t want to think about being
part of the reason someone stopped hoping to forge connections with people
different than themselves.

Lily had been
totally different than the girls he’d dated before her. Until he’d met his freckle-faced, sass-talking,
no-bullshit wife, he’d dated women who took far better care of their outsides
than their insides. He’d been a sucker
for a pretty face and a nice rack and hadn’t looked too far beneath the
surface.

And then he’d met Lily and learned what a difference a heart
made. She had taught him how to love, pushed him out of his emotional comfort
zone, and refused to settle for less than everything he had to give. He’d fought
her at first—determined to hold her at the same distance he’d held other
girls—but with a mixture of stubbornness, humor, and kisses that took his
breath away, she’d worn him down until he was putty in her hands.

On the day they
were married, he’d been certain he would
never love anyone more than he loved her that afternoon. But their love had
grown deeper and stronger with every passing year. By the time they celebrated
their ninth wedding anniversary, John had felt like she was a part of him, so
deeply ingrained in his heart and dear to his soul nothing could tear them
apart.

But death had ripped her away and taken the best
parts of him along with her.

“Jesus, Lily.”
John bowed his head, his breath rushing out with a defeated sound. “See what an
asshole I am without you?”

He waited, a
pathetic part of him hoping he might hear her voice in his head again, the way
he had Halloween night. But there was nothing but the sound of some critter
digging in the ground on the far side of the stream, the gentle burble of water
over stones from farther up the mountain, and Darcy snuffling as she sniffed
the ground where Persephone Styles had stood a few moments before.

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Jessie Evans, gave up a career as an international woman of mystery to write the sexy, contemporary romances she loves to read.

She's married to the man of her dreams, and together they're raising a few adorable, mischievous children in a cottage in the jungle. She grew up in rural Arkansas, spending summers running wild, being chewed by chiggers, and now appreciates her home in a chigger-free part of the world even more.

When she's not writing, Jessie enjoys playing her dulcimer (badly), sewing the worlds ugliest quilts to give to her friends, going for bike rides with her house full of boys, and drifting in and out on the waves, feeling thankful for sun, surf, and lovely people to share them with.

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